


The Love I Meant To Say

by Superhusbandsfamily



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Claudia Stilinski - Freeform, Derek returns, Erica Reyes - Freeform, Flashbacks, Hale family - Freeform, M/M, Supernatural Beings, Vernon Boyd - Freeform, season 5, sterek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6076638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Superhusbandsfamily/pseuds/Superhusbandsfamily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles learnt the hard way that the loneliest moment in someone's life was when they watched their whole World fall apart, and all they could do was stare blankly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I Can't Believe It's Over

 

> **Time stopped.**
> 
> **The World stopped.**
> 
> **Everything stopped.**
> 
> **The moment he crossed the room and pulled Stiles into his arms, pinning him against the wall, Stiles was spinning and not quite breathing, but alive, so very alive.**
> 
> **Derek was kissing him.**

       Stiles has had to face many, _many_ difficult situations in his life since Scott turned. Near death experiences, evil spirit possession, mauling, maiming, you name it. Life was hard even before Scott got bitten, but let's not tread on dangerous waters.

       He lost track of the number of times his life flashed before his eyes. Dad going missing, Scott almost dying, etc. It's weird how it happens. Like a panic attack. His heart starts to race and he breaks out in cold sweats. The 'whole life flashing before your eyes' thing should only happen if you're the one actually dying, that he knows, yet it happened when others were dying, not him.

       There were three times he could vividly remember his life flashing before his eyes.

       Sitting by Mom's bedside, the machines around started beeping and doctors began flooding in. His hand was wrenched out of hers and he was ushered out of the room with Melissa rubbing soothing circles against his back. She smiled and sat him down on a bench, telling him his father was on the way. He didn't get a chance to say goodbye nor apologise for the past. He wanted to promise to always listen to Dad and take care of him. He couldn't tell her how much he loved her. The room spun in slow motion and his face was wet and warm. The last thing he remembered was Dad wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

       Then there was his panic attack. Loved that one. Especially since Lydia Martin had kissed him out of it. If he had died, it would have been the perfect way to go. The feel of her lips, soft against his. Her strawberry blond hair, fragrant like lavenders in Spring. All the times he had tried to speak to her, but was completely ignored. The way she looked at him when he had told her he knew how smart she really was. Sucking it up and being there for her, even if he knew the self-reprimanding voice at the back of his mind was right.

       The next was when he, Scott and Allison were plunged into tubs of ice, and on the brink of actual death. He could smell Mom's lilac perfume and hear echoes of her sweet laugher. She told him everything was going to be alright and all he had to do was relax. They would find Dad together. He could feel the presence of his friends rather than see them, like meeting Lydia for the first time in third grade and how Scott shared his cookies with him on the playground when he was so alone. Dad was praising him in the background, saying he was proud to have him as a son.

       This time, he could feel it happening, but something was amiss. A stinging current ran through his body on the surface of his skin, from the tip of his fingers to the tip of his toes. Time slowed down, making him swallow the words left unsaid. No one told him he would be okay. No comforting smiles nor supporting remarks. There was a sharp ringing in his ears, and a stabbing pain in his chest. He steadied himself to stop from buckling over as his story played like a silent movie on loop. Figures, black and white, clouded his line of sight. There were moments he ought to remember, but couldn't recognise. Just lingering glances, two ships passing in the night. Reaching out for what he lost, and what he never had.

       No one was dying, but there might as well been.

       When his life flashed before his eyes again, he watched Derek get into a car and leave before Stiles could give him a reason to stay.


	2. I Lived To Show Some Other Day

       "Dammit!" Stiles slammed the hood of his jeep and turned around to lean on its door before slumping down on the cold road. The night was wet and empty, exactly how he felt. He had lost so many people in his life and now he had lost the only person he never thought would betray him. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, burying his head in-between. Lost in his loud sobs, Stiles didn't hear the footsteps approach and jumped up when a voice said, "I believe you."

> **Stiles stayed. Someone had to. Cora was out with Isaac burying Boyd. Jennifer and the Alphas had disappeared. The rest of his friends were busy doing what they do, so he stayed. He wasn't sure if Derek wanted him around, but Stiles couldn't leave him alone.**
> 
> **He had hesitantly placed his shaky hand on Derek's shoulder, but once Stiles realised that Derek needed to know that someone was there for him, whether he liked it or not, Stiles tightened his grip and squeezed. Derek needed to know that someone had his back; that Boyd's death wasn't his fault. So, Stiles stood behind Derek and was his strength for as long as Derek needed him to be.**
> 
> **Stiles only realised they hadn't moved when the loft had cleared out. Derek was still on his knees, but he had his head in his hands. "Hey," he said, and swallowed a lump in his throat. "I know werewolves can't catch the common cold, but I don't think staying in soaking wet clothes' gonna do you any good. Why don't you go take a shower and I'll make us some coffee and order a pizza or something?" Derek didn't nod or show any sign of acknowledgement. He just got up, throwing Stiles off balance, and dragged his feet through the subsiding water and up the stairs.**
> 
> **When he heard the bathroom door close, Stiles sent a quick text to Scott and his dad, telling them what happened, before heading to the kitchen. By the time Derek reappeared, the pizza was on the counter next to two mugs of steaming coffee. "I hope you like pepperoni 'cause that's all I got," Stiles said, taking a bite out of his second piece. Derek didn't look at him as he grabbed the mug closest to him, taking a seat at the island. He stared at the black liquid like it held the answers to the universe. Dropping his half-eaten slice back into the box, Stiles shuffled over and stopped right in front of Derek.**
> 
> **Derek was a lot of unspeakable things. The guy usually emitted an angry, serial-killer vibe and only smiled if he was about to rip throats out with his teeth. Stiles had been on the receiving end of most of that rage, enough to know it well. He had seen Derek worry about his pack and have a sense of pride when they accomplished tasks at hand. He knew how fiercely Derek looked out for his family and that he was capable of forgiveness; even though Peter had threatened his life and killed Laura. Stiles had also witnessed adoration; Cora's stories of South America would earn her a curve in Derek's lips when he thought no one was looking.**
> 
> **Stiles had seen Derek be a lot of things, but not this. His eyes were expressionless like he was a thousand miles away and didn't plan to return anytime soon. It wasn't a Derek that wanted revenge for the death of his friend; it was one that had given up.**
> 
> **"They're burying him next to Erica," he started, hoping Derek was listening. "Scott and Allison are trying to get more information from Deaton. I wish the man would stop speaking in riddles for once and just tell us what to do." Derek continued to stare blankly ahead with his hands wrapped around the mug. He hadn't taken a sip nor blinked as far as Stiles could tell. "Derek..." Stiles began before closing his mouth and making a decision he hoped he wasn't going to regret later, withering in pain a pool of his own blood. Stiles cupped Derek's hands in his own and hunched so he could look Derek in the eye. Derek didn't move, but Stiles swore he saw his jaw twitch. "Derek, this wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault. All this is because of Deucallion and his evil minions from Hell. Erica, Boyd, Jennifer, Cora. What happened is not on you." Stiles raised his voice and restrained himself from punching some sense into Derek's broody visage. "Derek! Are you listening to me? It's not your—"**
> 
> **Derek flipped Stiles' hands and slammed his on the table. He grabbed Stiles by the wrists as Stiles tried not to wince at the throbbing in his palms. "It is my fault!" Derek roared and the mug toppled over, splattering them both like Jackson Pollock's canvas. Stiles was somewhat grateful the coffee had cooled. He wouldn't have wanted to add 'scorched' to his ever growing list of problems. "Don't you understand what's been going on?" Derek stood up, pushing back and letting the stool fall with a splash behind him. Stiles rubbed at the red marks curved around his wrists and mouthed an 'oww' as Derek walked around and closed the distance between them. "I resisted and they rebelled! I should've given myself up in the beginning. None of this would've happened," Derek mumbled towards the end as he turned away.**
> 
> **"And what good would that have done? Deucallion wanted you to kill your pack and join his. You fought back and protected them."**
> 
> **"They're dead, Stiles!" Derek was facing him again, running a hand through his hair. "And I couldn't do anything to stop it."**
> 
> **If Stiles thought it was compassion he felt for Derek, he was wrong because now he was just pissed off. "Brooding isn't going to help either! If you want to make things right, go out there and find a way to stop them! Stop being pathetic and self-reprimanding! If you hand Duecallion your head on a silver platter, you're not saving everyone who's left. You'll just be a /coward/ and a /hypocrite/." Stiles made sure to spit the words out in spite to get his message across.**
> 
> **Stiles should have expected being shoved into the fridge, and yet he didn't. Maybe he deserved it, but he wasn't going to give Derek the satisfaction of backing down. "Why are you here, Stiles?" Derek could probably hear his heart beating a hundred miles per second and smell Stiles' distress, but he wasn't going to let it show. Not if he could help it. "Why do you care?" Derek growled at him and Stiles could feel Derek's breath on his face.**
> 
> **Stiles stared Derek down, not giving him an inch. He could hear time tick by as Derek's eyes searched for an answer. Stiles lowered his hands from where he held them above his head in a defensive position against the chrome doors, and placed one over Derek's, fisted in the front of his shirt, while the other cupped Derek's jaw. Never leaving Derek's confused gaze, Stiles leaned forward and crashed their mouths together.**
> 
> **The kiss was as rough and eager as Stiles could make it. He wanted Derek to know exactly why he stayed. He wanted Derek to know that he wasn't going anywhere. Derek needed to know that Stiles still believed that he could make things right, that it wasn't his fault and it wasn't too late.**
> 
> **Stiles ran his fingers through Derek's hair and pushed himself as close as possible into the curve of Derek's chest while mapping out his lips. When Stiles moved to his neck, Derek stilled at his touch, but soon dropped his hands and closed his eyes. He led Stiles' lips back to his and kissed him with equal passion. Stiles relaxed and allowed Derek to explore his mouth as much as he wanted. Their hands travelled just as much, from their hair and faces, to their backs and waists, and back up again with an insatiable hunger for more.**
> 
> **When they finally stopped to catch a breath, Stiles wrapped his arms around Derek and whispered into his ear, "I just do."**
> 
> **Stiles could feel the vibration from Derek's shoulders before he heard soft sobs as Derek mumbled, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Stiles held his weight as Derek's knees gave up on him and sat them down on a puddle. Derek apologised between snivels and Stiles hushed him while rubbing soothing circles on his back.**
> 
> **Knowing the words were for the ones they lost instead of him, Stiles chose to reply because Derek needed to hear it. "I know."**
> 
> **Dawn began to stream into the loft by the time Stiles said, "I think we could both use a shower. My ass feels wrinkly."**
> 
> **Derek grunted something in return and Stiles felt Derek smile against his chest. He heaved himself up and held out a hand for Stiles to follow.**

       Stiles' head spun from standing too fast and his vision was blurry from his tears, but that was a voice he would recognise even if he were deaf. Strong arms were around him before he realised he was losing his balance. He looked up into familiar hazel eyes and eyebrows furrowed with worry. "Derek?"

       With that, Derek exchanged his expression for a warmer one and smiled. Stiles didn't realise how much he missed it until it stabbed him in the chest and he was pulling Derek into a hug. Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles and rested a hand on the back of Stiles' head. "I got your messages," Derek said. "All of them." Stiles huffed and nodded against Derek's shoulder. "I believe you, Stiles. I'll always believe you."


End file.
